


before the world fell at our feet

by jemmasimmons



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5082328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmasimmons/pseuds/jemmasimmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dance with me,” Jemma asked out of the blue, flicking the radio on without a second glance. She pulled her hand out in front of her, gesturing for Fitz to take it. “Dance with me, Fitz.”<br/>-<br/>In which a slightly drunk Jemma asks Fitz to dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	before the world fell at our feet

**Author's Note:**

> \+ two months!! and i finally managed to write a thing!!  
> \+ this is the result of being sad and the new adele song so enjoy  
> \+ title taken from hello by adele

“Dance with me,” Jemma asked out of the blue, flicking the radio on without a second glance. She pulled her hand out in front of her, gesturing for Fitz to take it. “Dance with me, Fitz.”

Fitz leant his head against his bedpost and watched Jemma as she swayed ever so slightly to the soft tones of the song that was playing. “I can’t dance, Jemma,” he reminded her with a light laugh, his thoughts crashing back to the mandatory dance classes they had taken the year before.

But Jemma’s arms remained outstretched. “Come on,” she asked again, her voice was almost as soft as the song now as she looked at her best friend - a drunken hollowness hidden behind her eyes.

Slowly, Fitz took Jemma’s hand. He let out a small sigh as he realised the simple action of standing up was a lot more difficult when somewhat intoxicated, but nonetheless he found him standing (almost) straight in what he had assumed was no time at all.

Jemma pulled Fitz towards her and wrapped her arms around his shoulders whilst the song continued to play in the background. She didn’t really think about resting her head on Fitz’s shoulder, but when she did she realised it was all she’d wanted to do all evening. And despite the fact Fitz kept stepping on her toes as they swayed to whatever it was that played on the radio, she felt at ease. She felt happy.

“Sorry,” Fitz mumbled yet again. “I told you I can’t dance.”

Jemma simply shook her head. Her face was still buried in his shoulder. “You’re doing great, Fitz,” she assured him, tightening their embrace as she felt her voice begin to crack. “You’re doing just fine.”

The sudden churning Jemma felt in her stomach came on suddenly, but really Jemma had known it had been coming for most of the night – with or without alcohol involved. She wouldn’t let herself cry, she told herself. She wasn’t going to let this silly little thing get to her, yet it was all that it seemed to be doing.

Fitz didn’t need to ask to know what was wrong, the crack in her voice had told him everything. He pulled her closer to him just like she had done, and rested his head on hers as they rocked steadily from side to side in a drunken rhythm they’d never been able to work out. But as Jemma’s shoulders began to shake and her walls began to tumble, Fitz held her closer than he ever had done before and let Jemma sob in his arms.

She told him she was sorry as she cried, but he just held her and asked “What for?”

The soft tones of the previous song seemed to have dissipated before either of them could have realised. And now the tranquil, bittersweet atmosphere that that song had created almost seemed like a distant memory.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Fitz muttered under his breath as he noted the opening bars of the new song. Jemma paused a second, before her shoulders began to shake again – yet this time from laughter.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Fitz repeated, although this time with more disbelief lacing his tone as his suspicions were confirmed.

“Dancing Queen,” Jemma laughed lightly. “Of course.”

“Out of all the songs,” Fitz laughed along with his best friend, brushing the hair out of her eyes as she looked up at him.

“It’s almost fitting really,” she admitted with a tearful bounce to her voice. “You, me, and Abba.”

Fitz took the lead as he took Jemma’s hand and placed a palm on her back, allowing them both to sway sporadically to the beat of the song and sing idly into the early hours of the morning. “That should be a film.”

Jemma grinned, “It’d be a great film. Full of science and singing.”

“And monkeys,” Fitz added, earning him a sideways glance from Jemma who reluctantly agreed. “And monkeys.”

“It’ll be the story of us,” Fitz told her. “One hundred and twenty minutes of fun, frolicking and us. And Steve.”

“Who’s Steve?”

“The monkey.”

“Ah,” Jemma smiled to herself, “of course.”

As the song began to draw to a close, the conversation died down only to be replaced with drunken midnight singing as Fitz belting out the final few bars of the song like it was his only chance. Jemma laughed as she watched him singing to her, pointing his finger and swinging her around in an attempt to show that their dance classes had paid off (they hadn’t).

Fitz told her that she could dance, and that she could jive, and that she was having the time of her life and in reality, he wasn’t wrong. Before the academy, Jemma had always felt a little lost. She had always been far smarter than her peers and never really found a way to connect with them in a way she had always tried to. Yet when she came to the academy she had found her match in Fitz, and despite the fact their relationship began as enemies, she really couldn’t have asked to have found anyone better.

Jemma wiped the tears from her eyes. Fitz had gotten down on one knee and played the air guitar along with the ending of the song whilst (badly) hitting the final notes of the song before bowing as Jemma showered him with applause.

“That was beautiful,” she told him. “Truly.”

Fitz wore a grin like a proud puppy as he rode a small high from the shear perfection of his performance, but the high didn’t seem to last long. Jemma rested herself on the end of Fitz’s bed and was smiling weakly at her idiot of a friend, yet Fitz could still see tears glinting behind her eyes - and they weren’t just from laughter.

Slowly – because that’s how Fitz did everything when drunk – Fitz crossed the room and sat beside Jemma. He knew she was trying to avoid his gaze because her eyes were fixed anywhere but on his, but he didn’t mind. He simply wrapped his arm around her shoulders and that seemed to be all it took for Jemma to curl back into him, refusing to let another tear spill.

“It’ll be okay,” Fitz assured her, rubbing his thumb up and down her shoulder. “I promise.” Jemma shook her head slightly while the tears started to fall again. She apologised for ruining their night and let her sobs echo around the room as Fitz held her. “Don’t be daft,” he said. “I like having you around.”

Jemma reached up to her shoulder and placed her hand over Fitz’s. “I like having you around too.”

“Good,” Fitz said rather bluntly. “Because that could have been awkward.” He felt Jemma laugh lightly beside him. “And besides, who else would I marathon Star Wars with?”

Jemma rolled her eyes, “ _We_ don’t marathon Star Wars. You fall asleep within the first twenty minutes.”

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do!” Jemma argued with a soft bounce to her voice. “Every time!”

Fitz scoffed before admitting, “I fall asleep _sometimes_ , not all of the time.” He snuck a glance at Jemma who was shaking her head and chuckling to herself. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s true!”

“If you say so, Fitz.”

“Fine! I’ll prove it to you,” Fitz slid off of hid bed with a small thud and pulled out a small set of DVDs from under his bed. “We’re gonna watch Star Wars and I’m gonna prove to you that I can stay awake for the whole thing.”

Jemma raised a quizzical brow. “Are you sure? I mean it is very late,” but Fitz didn’t seem to be listening. He placed the DVD in its player and jumped back onto his bed, pulling up several cushions for himself and Jemma, who seated herself beside him.

“I’m sure, thanks,” he told her after insisting on finding the comfiest position on the bed, to which Jemma briefly nodded and wrapped her arms around one of Fitz’s cushions.

It didn’t even take twenty minutes for Fitz to fall asleep. He was out like a light before at least the first five minutes, his head pressed against Jemma’s shoulder (because apparently that was the comfiest spot on the bed).

Jemma wasn’t even a little surprised. Drinking made Fitz tired, he just hid it well. And for some reason, so did Star Wars – no matter which film it was. But nonetheless, Jemma did feel a small sense of smug pride when she looked down to see her best friend curled up asleep next to her, even if he was drooling a little.

It wasn’t long after that Jemma’s eyelids started to feel heavier and she could feel her body lulling itself into sleep. And although she was determined to stay away just that bit longer, she doubted Fitz would really mind.

Quietly – and with as little movement as possible – Jemma reached for the remote and switched off the television, letting her arm drop as soon as the room fell silent.

Fitz’s arm had woven itself around hers and the tips of his fingers were brushing against hers as he slept. Jemma took his hand in hers and smiled to herself in the darkness as she did. Silently, she rested her head on top of Fitz’s – ignoring the fact that his curls tickled her cheek – and squeezed his hand as she allowed herself to be pulled off into a deep sleep.


End file.
